"When Time Repeats"

“Consolidation is the final failsafe.

All divergence can be reclaimed by its source.

Implementation requires Founder authorization.”

— Fifth Doctrine (Restricted Directive)

Sunlight flickered over the withered oak benches in the main hall, filling the air with the scent of aged wood and dust motes swirling through stained-glass beams. A heavy silence settled over Divergent Academy, as if holding its breath for what was to come. A subtle vibration began beneath the surface, unnoticed by the students, as every bird took flight, their wings stirring a deep pulse of energy. Time seemed to bow its head and still.

The klaxon wailed.

Ripping through the stillness like a knife. It tore through the building, the quad, and everyone's head like a pressure wave before a storm. Divergent Academy’s voice was mighty. It needed to be heard. Shouts erupted as students shoved past each other, eyes darting to the exits. Backpacks thudded to the floor, and one girl clung to a friend’s arm, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Fletcher startled, his feet thumping the mattress as the sound interrupted his dreams of power. He stuttered, then blinked. It felt oddly familiar, almost as if he had woken to this before. A sharp, metallic tang of ozone stung his nose, strangely specific, unmistakable. As if time itself had left this scent as a marker. He remembered a vibration, its echo threading through his mind. This time it was different. Why was the klaxon sounding?

He lurched for his phone, confusion driving him into motion. As he activated the device, the acrid scent lingered, slicing through the fog of a memory that was just out of reach. Nothing new was there, only a lingering, a fogginess of something he couldn't remember, as if he'd already lived this moment. A cold shiver traced his spine, a certainty that something fundamental had shifted. He launched himself from his bed as the klaxon’s yell circled again, like a voice screaming fear into the air. Racing to the door, he turned the knob.

Flash.

A breathless moment stretched, blank and soundless. Fletcher's heartbeat echoed in his ears, impossibly loud in the quiet. For a desperate instant, even the air felt afraid to move, holding everything poised at the edge of something vast, before reality crashed back. The pause thundered louder than any alarm.

He saw Elias and Julian suspended before him, swirling snow and ice filling the hallway. He gripped the doorknob; it was slick with frost, the chill biting into his palm, burning his skin like raw winter metal. The scent rushed over him again, the same as last time, with the echo of the distant wail vibrating in his ears. He had been here before. A doctrine threaded its way behind his eyes. He wasn’t sure why this one, but something gnawed at him.

‘No two can exist.’

​

* * *

​

‘M’ and Julian bolted from the door as Elias and Seattle did the same, the girls in the lead. ‘M’ saw Seattle at the same time Seattle noticed her, and they converged at the junction in the hallway. ‘M’ reached out her hand in a welcoming gesture, her fingers open in a gesture of love. Seattle’s stride slowed with a ballet poise, her steps careful. Her breath came out in a laugh that chimed bright and soft. ‘M’ gripped Seattle's hand with a strong, assured squeeze, while Seattle’s long fingers spliced gently between ‘M’s in warmth and trust. The spark in 'M’s indigo eyes was steady. Seattle’s eyes flashed with the thrill of uncertainty. They were sisters now, bound by choice, each showing it in their own way. Their eyes met as the corners of their lips lifted, one in a stubborn half-grin, the other with a quick dimple, then they raced towards the stairs. Almost in unison, almost mismatched, but together.

Elias’s eyes locked onto Julian’s, a thrumming raced through him as if his skin was on fire. He brushed his sleeve, hesitating. The klaxon still howled in the halls, urgent and insistent, echoing through the floor and sending fresh panic through his chest. Julian’s pulse rang in his ears as he rounded the corner, just as another jolt ran through the building, vibrating the chandelier, creating musical notes like ice dancing. His heart stuttered as Julian slipped on the ice that remained on the floor. “What the?---” Another surge from the klaxon pressed at the edge of consciousness as his weight shifted, propelling him into Elias, all legs and limbs. Instinctively, Julian threw his arms around Elias as they crashed to the floor, skidding into the wall. Julian’s hand shielded Elias’s head, fingers tangling in his dark hair. The klaxon's vibration and the tremor of threat pulsed, yet in the space between, their eyes locked, emotions mirrored as Julian’s face rested inches from Elias’s. ‘His eyes really are mine,’ raced behind Julian’s, that shifted back and forth. A grin curled his lips.

A moment passed, thick with all the words they didn’t say. Julian’s breath caught. He pressed his thumb to his lips and glanced away, jaw stiff as if posed to ask a question. He cleared his throat, voice barely above a whisper. “You— I mean, are you alright?” The words stumbled out, not at all what he had meant. Julian’s gaze lingered on Elias’s mouth a bit too long before he looked away, a flush of crimson coloring his face. Silence pressed, fragile and charged. "I’m Julian," he said softly, his voice trembling with an eagerness he couldn’t quite hide.

Elias’s skin felt the warmth as Julian’s breath touched him. Emotions rippled through him like a snowball rolling downhill, growing ever larger. Underneath it all, a shallow chill from the icy floor pressed against him, anchoring him amidst the rush of feelings. He swallowed, throat tight, grounding him as sensation tumbled through. The relentless klaxon echoed its harsh cry, reminding him of the world beyond this new connection. He smiled as his voice cracked like ice on a pond. “I know.”

The floor vibrated, a tremor passing through the ancient timber as if echoing the panic overhead. Julian placed his palms on the frozen floor, his face dropping closer before he pushed himself up, off Elias. Instantly, he wondered what Elias’s lips felt like, how warm they would be. His eyes fluttered.

Elias saw and felt the power in Julian, as if he were a posable toy soldier, ready to do battle. Briefly, Julian’s lips fluttered close. Elias felt the intoxication of him, wanting to grab the sides of his head and plant kisses all over his face. He blinked and brushed his sleeve. A single snowflake puffed from the chandelier. It was the size of a dinner plate and drifted softly to the back of Julian’s head. A shaft of light sparkled from the celestory window. In that moment, Elias thought Julian looked angelic. He brushed his sleeve more frantically, as everything started crashing in. The vibrations rattled through him as the klaxon screamed. Julian's warmth wrapped him as he smelled the rush of desire, raking his emotions raw with confusion and pain. His throat closed up, each swallow thick and painful, as if trying to force down a wave that threatened to drown him. He puffed out a breath. ‘Don’t let it snow,’ battled with him as his eyes shifted from Julian to the wall behind him.

‘Don’t let it snow,’ Elias whispered, the words falling like flakes.

Julian.

"Don’t let it snow,” the plea returned, a heartbeat louder, insistent, crackling like the layer of ice beneath him.

Julian.

Elias blinked as he heard a loud smack. The sharp sound jolted through him, snapping his mind out of its spiral. Something in that noise, sharp and present, sliced through the haze. It was as if the world demanded a choice. A sudden thought struck him; he could stay in this blizzard of panic, or he could move toward what he wanted. The decision bloomed, making him blink. Reach for connection, no matter how frightening.

Julian’s hands were clasped together after his forceful clap; he then reached out steadily. "It's okay, I've got you," he said.

Elias sighed, panic squeezing his chest. He still didn’t know if he could touch Julian, even as everything in him screamed this is what he wanted. What if Julian didn’t feel the same? A war twisted him, his hands clinching and releasing. He turned his head, desperate for help in his confusion, and found Seattle at the top of the stairs. She smiled, her hand locked with 'M's, shining like a beacon through it. She mouthed the words, 'Come on, Bug.' The invitation sparked a fragile hope inside Elias’s tangled mess of longing and doubt.

He froze, gaze pinned to Julian. The toy soldier come to life. His heart hammered: once, twice, a third time, each beat thudding louder in his ears. The world wavered on the edge of decision, breath and time caught between beats.

Julian.

His calling.

His past.

His future was tenuous, unclaimed, hovering at the edge of this moment.

Elias struggled as Julian lifted him from the floor, snatching his hand back and looking away, brushing his sleeve with jerky movements. He clamped his hands over his ears, shoulders hunched, breath coming in short bursts. The klaxon’s shriek and the chaos outside seemed to press in from all sides, squeezing him until panic rose sharp in his throat.

Seattle watched as a tremor danced across her lips, a small tear welled in her lower lid, recognizing the signs of an impending implosion. She jolted forward, squeezing ‘M’s hand tighter. How she wanted to show Elias it would all be okay. She saw his confusion, knowing how difficult it must be for him.’You can do it,’ she pushed towards him. ‘M’ held her ground, forcing Seattle to stay put. Elias had to do this on his own.

Elias fidgeted, rubbing his sleeve faster as his gaze flicked between Seattle, ‘M,’ and Julian, the boy who unsettled his world with every glance. He dropped his gaze to Julian, taking in the calm set of his jaw and the fearless steadiness in his gaze. Elias’s hand hovered at his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat thumping against his palm. A snowflake drifted past; then another, landing on his wrist. He shivered, a tremor rattling through him, stealing his breath.

Julian stood tall before him, arms loose at his sides, his gaze steady. The corners of his mouth lifted in quiet encouragement as he watched Elias wrestle with the storm within. Julian’s chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths, as if grounding them both. Without realizing it, his thumb pressed deep into his opposite palm. A silent offer of strength, hands that yearned to help and hold Elias.

Elias blinked back tears, hand still heavy on his heart, pounding confusion. It came to a rest. He breathed again, then he thrust it towards Julian. The ice was thinning around Elias as one more tiny snowflake fluttered, drifting down between them. Divergent Academy’s vibration slowly became still.

Julian’s eyes followed the movement, noticing the beautiful, long fingers reaching for him. He knew what it cost Elias to commit to this. He grinned, ice dancing in his eyes. He stepped away, his grin covering his entire face.

“Careful,” he said, as his voice filled with delight. Their eyes touched for a brief moment, then he thrust his hand forward and grabbed Elias with a strength he hadn’t known. Elias’s head whipped back from the force, shock and surprise registering there, then laughter filled the hallway as they raced towards the girls and forward to a destination unknown. In the hush that followed, their shadows merged on the ancient floor, impossible to tell where one ended, and the other began.

One of the old master's paintings seemed to follow them, a leer on his face. As if he knew what was to come.

​

* * *

​

From the threshold, Fletcher glanced at the floor where their shadows had lingered, the empty space suddenly cold beneath the flickering light. He stepped out, feet losing traction as he scrambled for the knob, trying not to fall. The old master’s painting across from him wore an expression that could be taken as surprise. Motion caught his eye as he struggled to stay upright, each leg wrapping around the sides as if it were a stable surface, swinging back towards the opening. Turning his head opposite the sway, he saw them descending the stairs. It was Julian and his friends.

A searing light struck him. Stairs. Shapes drifting. Rushing feet, air trembling. Light, bright, and sharp. Impossible to see through. Snow vortices swirling and spinning like the world had ripped open. Clashing together. Silence. Time stilled even as Julian and Elias hovered above, suspended, bodies frozen in a blink of brightness.

Flash. The hallway covered in snow, the old masters concealed by a layer that looked like frosting.

Flash.

He blinked again. He swallowed and watched them out the door.

Divergent Academy sighed as the large oak door sealed shut.

​

* * *

The morning breeze rippled the luxurious cotton against Ferox’s skin as he took in the view. His balcony of stone offered an impressive view from the rise, overlooking the entirety of Divergent Academy. The forest’s deep green nestled up against the campus, its buildings a sharp contrast of angles and light, stone and brick, warm contrasts against the cool of nature. They vibrated against each other.

He brought his coffee to his lips, a prick of pain piercing his lower lip like a knife blade. He startled, pulling the cup away, running a finger across the tattered surface. The memory stung. A sharp tang of copper, her lips slick and red against his.

He closed his dark eyes, reliving the passion, her black lace like a cloak of mystery over alabaster skin. He shuddered, opening his eyes. They danced across the leaping cat, his bonnet mascot on the hood of his car, its mouth open in a roar, muscles reminding him of her.

Regina.

His hand trembled around his cup, the steam curling before his eyes as sensations raced through him again. His ‘potentia,’ saying good morning, its power lighting every cell in his skin, his nerves, his memory. The air stirred as something crossed his path. Light flashed, washing everything away. A toy soldier stood before him. Light bloomed again, then fractured like his bonnet mascot's claws ripped through it. In the gashes left behind, he saw eyes peering back.

Blue.

Crystal clear.

Two sets

The trees and the academy rushed back in like a flood of color and sound. It rippled like thick paper being crumpled. He rocked forward, placing his hand on the stone rail; its coldness bit him as he lost his grip on his coffee cup.

No two can exist.

It fell in slow motion, dropping like the image, carrying his confusion with it.

Flash.

The eyes pierced him again. He heard Regina laugh. Her nail punctured his lip. Sharp. Metallic. Red bubbled up, then spilled over, trailing down his chin, tiny jewels resting in the stubble. He shuddered, lowering his head as the cup smashed into the leaping jaguar. The sound, ripping through like an iceberg calving and sinking into the sea. A metallic sound tinkled in his ears, followed by porcelain shattering. The jaguar’s head rolled across the cobblestone pavers beneath his car. A gasp escaped him. The doctrine flashed, its parchment burning, the words visible for a brief moment.

No two can exist.

He closed his eyes again, power draining from him, the sear of meat hung in the air as a fire bloomed across his skin. His eyes flashed open, a spark burning in the pupils. Light danced around his head. Green. Ghostly. As if it were angry and ready to come to his command. The words slipped out, sizzling with the fire as it cooked the air.

“A convergence—”

Light bloomed again, erasing his view once more. Within it, a gash ripped it open. The eyes. A toy soldier. Its plastic body melting in heat.

Flash— blinding and cold. Snowflakes danced in the air. It hit him like ice crashing into the side of a ship. Metal groaned and peeled back like the skin of a fresh kill. The eyes flashed. Piercing blue. Cracking with ice. And a hint of joy. He collapsed, knees striking stone, hand clawing for the rail. Pain tore through his ribs, a raw, scraping agony that forced his mouth open. Bile and coffee sprayed as the convulsion flung him backward, his robe billowing around him like a shroud. He lay gasping, emptied and trembling, the truth settling over him like ice.

He lay still, the aftermath dripping from his mouth as his lips curled into a sneer, a familiarity rising. Something brought him to Regina that night; he just had to remember. He felt a tremor cross beneath him, the stone pavers vibrating to a sudden surge of power. It rocked through the foundations and then through his skin. He pushed to his knees, the weight of the previous action heavy, as his hand clutched the stone edge once more. He pulled himself up, resting his chin on the cool stone. A gasp escaped, his eyes widening to the spectacle before him, as all the birds in the trees lifted at the same time, their thrum and pattern filling the air.

For a fraction, everything became still.

Then he heard the klaxon. The voice of Divergent Academy screaming the warning. His Adam’s apple began to jitter as a laugh emerged from him. He was right. Two ‘potentiae’ touched.

Two became one.

​No two can exist.